Clawed, Ripped, Torn
by MoffandAvencore
Summary: On Hiatus! Ed and Al are sent to the war in Aeurgo. But, when they return, their joy is short lived as their children are taken in the Great Raid. Stripped of their memory, Alden, Tracey, and Vance live ignorant to the pain their parents face every day. The Elrics resume their roles as lap dogs in hopes of finding their children. But, the council just might have other plans.
1. The Goodbye

**-Please read author's note at the end!-**

We lined up in a row like we always did, our heads in perfect step-stair proportions, progressively growing shorter from left to right. I was in the center, my tall brother Alden on my left and my little cousin Vance on my right clutching my hand so tight my finger's buzzed. I squeezed Brother's hand just as tightly.

We were all praying a silent prayer, too sacred to say aloud, trying to shut out the dark that seemed to be creeping up from behind.

The late light of the evening was cascading through the stained glass windows of the Risembool station, dying our fathers' golden hair shades of burnt orange and making their eyes glow in the light. My father's looked suspiciously shiny…but I shook my head. Dad didn't cry.

The train whistle sounded.

I felt my entire body tighten from head to toe and my shoulders slowly began to shake. Brother's entire frame began to cave like he had been punched in the gut. Poor Vance broke down sobbing, burying his round, flushed face into my sleeve. Seeing him cry, his golden eyes wide with desperation and sorrow, rocked me to my core. I swallowed hard, trying to erase the lump that was forming there. Dad looked at the clock, then at his watch just to see if it was correct, and looked at Uncle Al with a questioning glance. Uncle nodded in confirmation, and he scooped up his son in his arms. Poor Uncle, he had only been with Vance four years and now this…

He pulled him in tight enough to bruise him, pressing his son's face into his uniformed chest. Uncle wasn't above or against tears so he let them fall freely down his cheeks. He cradled his son as he cried, rocking him gently and whispering vacant promises that he would come home safe and sound. I felt my gut flip over and vomit seemed entirely possible.

My dad sighed deeply through his nose and knelt down in front of Brother. Alden squeezed my hand tightly and I watched him. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he sniffled, desperately trying to keep his composure. By the way my father's hands were shaking, I could tell he was just as unstable...if not more so. He pulled out his silver watch that was worn and scratched from years of use and affection and put it in Brother's hands. He put his hand Alden's cheek and looked him deep in the eyes. He smiled,

"I can still see my mom in your eyes." Dad said. My brother's eyes were a deep green shining with grey, like a forest shrouded in fog. They were like my grandmother's, or so I was told. Dad pushed my brother's bangs out of his face and tugged his long, sloppy golden braid. Brother looked about ready to crumble to pieces as my fingers lost all feeling entirely. He swallowed and gasped between suppressed sobs. My dad's breath became shaky as he wrapped his arms around Alden and held him close. Alden let go of my hand and clutched Daddy's jacket, hard. I could barely make out the whispers that passed between them. Alden forced a jovial chuckle,

"You know, I hear they have great houses in the north. And Xing is famous for its authentic pastries and home decor… W-what do you say we just run, and you don't go at all?" he cried into my father's shoulder. Dad's eyes closed as his lips began to tremble,

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be right here." He stroked my brother's hair and kissed his head many times. He shushed him gently and rocked him steadily. They stayed like that for what seemed like too short a time before Dad slowly pulled himself away from the embrace. My brother was full on crying now…and it made my heart clench. I couldn't remember seeing him cry before.

I wanted to hide and find some miraculous way to sponge this horrid moment from my mind.

Dad took Brother's hand held it to his chest. Alden clenched his fingers in the brilliant blue cloth like he could touch my father's heartbeat. Dad looked at him,

"I want you to promise me, Al." he said, "That you will watch over your mom and your sister for me. I'm trusting you to protect them until I get back. Can you do that for me?" Alden's eyes slowly narrowed, his fists clenched, and his eyes began to burn with a familiar, protective fire I had often seen in my father's eyes. He smirked,

"Dad…you know you don't have to ask." Dad smiled brightly and pulled his son in for one last proud embrace,

"Keep this for me until I get back." He said fingering the watch. Alden nodded and kissed dad's cheek.

"Y-you better come back… or Tracey's gonna' find you and kill you herself," he said glancing down at me. I felt my cheeks burn with indignation, and my eyes involuntarily shot to the ground. Daddy laughed and moved in front of me. I dug my nails into my palms,

_Don't cry._

He put his hands on my shoulders, his big, strong, gentle hands that were rough and ragged and yet so soft against my skin…

_Don't cry. _

He gently fingered my hair, and got a glazed look in his eyes, like he was staring at something magnificent...something he really wanted to make sure he remembered…

_Don't cry!_

He pushed the hair out of my face and laid a hand on my cheek. He raised my face to his and I looked into his eyes. Those giant orbs of burning fire that shone with unbelievable love for me.

_Don't! Please don't!_

Those eyes that I might not see again…

_Damn it, don't cry!_

"Tracey." My name, the way he said my name. Like a song…why hadn't I noticed before? I should have memorized it!

"Dad…" His fingers tightened around my arms as he stroked them gently,

"I want you to promise me-"

_Don't…_

"-that you won't give up on me, ok?" My heart froze, my shoulders dropped, my eyes widened, my blood ran cold.

_Screw it._

_"Damn you!" _I shrieked.

I drove my fists hard into his chest, over and over. I had all the strength of a cat, but I hit him with everything I had. His face stayed gentle, frowning at me with an understanding I didn't comprehend. My thoughts spewed from my mouth like water from a fountain; an endless pouring of everything I felt, thought, and pressed down came bubbling to the surface all at once.

"Why are you leaving?!" I screamed. "To hell with the military, Mustang, and this country! I don't give a damn about their reasons! You promised you would stay, you promised you would never leave us! _You promised you would never leave me!_ Why do they need you, anyway? You're not even an alchemist anymore! You and Uncle need to stay here and take care of us! Aren't we more important than them? Aren't we?!"

Suddenly, he pulled me into his chest and held me tighter than he ever had before. I struggled, but he just held me tighter. He felt like a wave of warmth and tenderness, drowning me and suffocating my anger. I stuttered and gasped as tears began to pour into my mouth. Brother's arms wrapped around us both and the two most important men in my life enveloped me.

I wanted to stay, in that one moment for eternity. I felt my dad's voice, caressing me and soothing my soul,

"You, Alden and your mom are the most important people to me…but we can't afford to be that selfish. There are people just like us out there getting separated by this war."

"But why do _you_ have to be the hero?" I asked.

"I'm not just fighting for them; it's for you, too. I have to keep you all safe, and if that means saving the world to do it, I will."

"I-I don't need the world." I said. "I need you." He chuckled under his breath and kissed my forehead. Something wet and warm dripped from his cheek into my hair,

"Hearing that makes me so happy…you have no idea." I hiccupped and sniffled like a tiny child.

I felt weak, pathetic. Here dad was giving up everything and I couldn't even make a simple promise.

I shook my head clear and smiled,

"I'll never give up on you…ever."

"I know." Alden put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me gently back, letting Dad release me. He looked into Dad's eyes proudly,

"You save the world, then come back so we can take it together," he said. Dad nodded and smiled,

"I will." He said.

He kissed me and my brother, and slowly got up. His moves were sluggish, strained, like everything in him was shouting at him to do the opposite. He bent down to my cousin and patted his head,

"Don't worry, Vance. I'll keep your papa safe for you." Vance kissed dad and hugged him. Ed returned the hug and Uncle put a hand on his shoulder, wiping his eyes dry,

"Brother, come on, we have to go." Ed looked up and nodded. Brother helped me stand. He smiled at me and kissed my head softly. I welcomed the touch; it was uncommon and needed now. Uncle Al and Dad turned and walked towards the train. Vance reached out his arms and stumbled pitifully towards his dad, screaming, begging him to stay. Uncle looked back at him, severe worry and remorse lining his face,

"Son, stay away from the tracks."

"No! Papa! Take me, too! Papa!" Alden scooped up our cousin and held him close,

"Sh! Don't make this harder for them, Vance." Vance cried hard into Brother's shoulder, hard from the gut sobbing. Alden set him down, but Vance hugged his leg. Our dad's climbed into the train, their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders like they were already wounded. They sat next to the window, and placed their hands on the glass for one last attempt at touch. I looked at Alden…but he was staring at our dad. His eyes darkened at the tears staining our father's cheeks. He clenched a shaking fist, and muttered a curse.

"Brother?" I called.

The train whistle blew hard and loud, a cruel command to charge forward and carry our dads away. It slowly pressed forward, and we stayed in pace with their window until we were running full sprint just to keep up.

Alden held out his hand towards their worried faces and struggled to shout under his gasps for air and the noise of the grieving crowd,

"Dad, _don't give in_!" he shouted. Dad's eyes widened, his mouth flew into a smile as fresh tears began to fall down his face. Uncle laughed heartily, crying just as hard as Dad. Vance and I shared a knowing glance, and we copied the same motion as Brother. Shoving our hands for the moving window we screamed,

"_Don't give in!_" The message was repeated until the train was long out of sight. We stood, gasping, panting, drenched in sweat and reaching out a hand for the train like we could grab it and pull it back.

We stayed like that for what seemed hours, three hands reaching for the horizon.

Reaching for our fathers.

Alden slowly lowered his hand and turned to us. His back straightened, and the familiar smile I had come to admire graced his face again despite the red in his eyes,

"Come on, guys. Our moms are waiting at home." Vance sniffed and nodded,

"Ok." I nodded and took his hand,

"We've got a lot of work to do, you know." Alden looked at the watch, and clenched it tightly in his fingers,

"Yea…we do."

* * *

**AN:/ I originally intended this to be a one shot, but based on the response I get from it, I might turn it into a chapter story! Tell me what you think! ;)**

** So… fan children. Now I know what you're thinking, and please know that I am going to do my best to make these characters respectful to the originals but not so much like the originals that they're basically carbon copies. And no, they do not intentionally represent me in any way, shape, or form.**

**Alden Maes E. is Edward and Winry's oldest. He is ten in this chapter. (Green eyes and golden hair).**

**Tracey Nina E. is Edward's daughter. She is nine years old. (Blue eyes and yellow hair like her mother).**

**Vance Edmond E. is Al's only child. He is five years old in this story. (Black hair like Mei but golden eyes like his dad).**


	2. The Artist

**_Four Years Later_**

The Risembool rain stained the streets alight with a thousand lanterns that swung from brightly colored, braided yarn. Laughter and loud conversations filled the silence of the night, and the crowds bustled and squirmed against each other in the state of irritated community. My cousin sat next to me on a couple of faded crates, and we were lost in the sea of people who towered over us. Vance was glad of it; it was easier for him to maneuver between sets of slacks and skirts. I placed the fiddle to my cheek, and let the rough wire of the strings tickle my calloused fingers. The scars tattooed my hands from hours upon months upon years of endless practicing, broken strings snapping at a moment's notice to rip my skin and blisters, breaking only to resurface upon my next performance.

But I was glad. I would later come to realize it was because the marks gave the illusion of experience and hard labor.

My dad had many scars.

Of course, at the moment I simply thought scars looked bad-ass.

I breathed in deep, and started to play. Vance shut his eyes to 'study the melody' as he claimed, and put his fingers to his temples. I couldn't help but roll my eyes; for a nine year old he sure was concerned about his reputation as the brains of our outfit, with his mildly imperious attitude and advanced vocabulary. I set my sights ahead, and looked for a willing donator.

The air tasted like fried food and smoke as the fair charged into a new swing. The band down the square keyed up a higher tempo and the couples went hand-in-hand to the platform dance floor. I gazed at the girls longingly, taking the time to study the detail in the movement of their dresses and how the fabric rustled with every spin. Of course if the skirt went up past their legs with the motion, that was just a bonus. Vance studied the men who took the hands of their ladies as they lead them forward like nobles. He looked down at his own clothes, my old rumpled hand-me-downs with holes in both knees, and frowned discontentedly. He pulled his bangs farther down over her eyes. I continued to play, and eyed the brass cup on the ground.

Empty.

Except for the one piece of gum some jerk threw in there. The smell of the food was almost suffocating as my stomach tightened in on itself. I eyed the piece of gum thoughtfully, but shook my head.

I was not that desperate.

The light dancing on the gold instruments cast a welcoming glow into Vance's wide, wondering eyes. I laughed at him,

"See one you like?" I asked, nodding towards the ladies spinning on the platform. Vance nodded,

"Yea…the one with the hot buns looks delicious!" He said happily. I cocked an eyebrow confusedly,

"What? Which one?" Vance smiled brightly and gestured to the food cart across the street,

"That one! With the icing!" he said. I looked to the cart, to the girls, and back to Vance who was wiping drool from his lips.

"Oh, for the love of…Vance! I was talking about the girls, not the pastries!" Vance glanced at me quizzically and looked over his shoulder at the dance floor,

"Oh," he said flatly. I sighed heavily,

"Why are you even here? You could've been home with Aunty Mei." I said. Vance shrugged and eyeballed the brass cup.

"I would've been bored." He said, reaching for the cup. My song involuntarily sped up as irritation prickled my gut,

"What about all those alchemy books in dad's study?" Vance placed the cup in his lap,

"I would've been bored." He repeated. My song screeched to a halt as I lowered my bow,

"But I thought you loved alchemy! That's all you ever talk about!" Vance reached into the cup,

"I've finished them." He grumbled. My eyes widened,

"You've…read all of them?"

"Yeah."

"And you _understood_ all of it?"

"Uh-huh." The eight year old picked up the gum and blew on it twice in a futile attempt to remove the dirt. My fingers clenched around my instrument,

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Understand it all so easily. Isn't it hard at all?" Vance turned and looked up at me, a smile that came off as slightly arrogant gracing his lips,

"Nuh-uh." He said, popping the gum in his mouth. I cringed,

"...That taste good?" I asked sarcastically. Vance smacked the gum loudly and wrinkled his nose,

"It deceived me." He said, spitting out the gum and wiping his tongue with his sleeve. I sighed and returned to my song,

"Dummy." Vance spat the loose dust from his mouth. I watched him silently, and couldn't help but smile.

He was so weird with his long black hair strung back in a braid, and his golden eyes contrasting his pale skin. He was so young and ignorant it was incredible that he could know so much about the world…he was a genius.

And it pissed me off sometimes.

I was the son of the Fullmetal Alchemist and I couldn't even get the basics without tutoring.

I remembered when my dad showed me my first transmutation. It was simple, fun, just a pretty circle that glowed and fixed my toys for me. It was obvious, even then, that my dad_ loved_ alchemy. His eyes would always shine with pride and excitement whenever I began a transmutation, or read a beginner's alchemy book…at least, until he found out I was just drawing all over the text in crayon. I never really showed a heavy attraction to alchemy like Vance did, or even a practical interest like Tracey. I had a greater propensity for painting on the walls and carving figurines of cats for Uncle Al. I would come home from my alchemy lessons at school with barely passing grades staining my report cards. Dad never resented me though, not once. He would just pat my shoulder and tell me that I didn't need to practice alchemy, because he would love me regardless.

But that just made me want it more.

I resented myself, my inability to understand, to simply grasp the fundamental lessons of alchemy that seemed to govern my dad's life. His past, his entire story, was based on alchemy, and the mistakes he made with it. He was the Full. Metal. _Alchemist._

And then there was me. The "artist."

My disinterest in the science, and my stupidity towards it just made me feel insignificant.

Without alchemy, I felt that I lost an important connection to him, born from the science that made him come alive every time he spoke about it, or saw it in his children.

I needed to understand, I needed to be better, stronger, smarter…

More like him.

"Alden?" I shook myself and looked down at my cousin, who was frowning at me,

"Are you okay? You look mad about something." I eased the tension between my eyebrows and forced a smile,

"Nah, I'm just focusing." I said. Vance returned to drawing circles in the dirt,

"If I had some grass, I could turn it into bread." He muttered.

"I'm starving." I whispered gruffly.

"Boys!" A sudden rough cry rang through the white noise of the crowd. Vance and I looked up to see Mr. Drake running towards us. He was a rather large man, with an apron that was way too tight, slightly bunched around his paunchy waist,

Wait…he was running? Mr. Drake hardly ever ran, the easy-going nature of his job and personality making it a somewhat obsolete practice.

He stopped by us, bending down to catch his breath, sweat beading his brow. Vance put a hand on his shoulder,

"What's wrong, Mr. Drake?" he asked worriedly. Mr. Drake was Tracey's co-worker, and it wasn't uncommon for him to come to me complaining about Tracey's unique temperament…but this was different. I swallowed the fear rising in my chest,

"What's she done this time?" I asked with forced cheer. Mr. Drake looked up,

"It's not Tracey. It's Sterling. His thugs came into the store and the boss won't make them leave. You have to come, I don't know what she's gonna' do to-"

Vance took off running, ducking under Mr. Drake's arm and sprinting down the street. I went after him, leaving Drake in a cloud of dust,

"Vance, get behind me!" I called. Vance slowed down to move around me, and I took his hand. One thing I could say for him, he was obedient. Vance looked up at me,

"You don't think she'll do something stupid again, do you?" My heart raced as I quickened my pace,

"Knowing her, I have no doubt."

**AN:/ Thanks for the feedback, guys! I really appreciate it! And yes, I took the "grass to bread" line from the first series, not as copyright but as a reference for comedic effect! Ahaha! **

**ED WILL NOT BE GETTING HIS ALCHEMY BACK. I think that is tasteless and WAY overdone. -_- Leave a comment and I will love you forever!**

**_I know this chapter had lots of my OCs, but I will not neglect the original characters. I am determined to maintain a balance, so bear with me, ok? Leave a review with any questions! _**


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